


All My Orisons

by Falcine



Category: Hamlet - All Media Types, Hamlet - Shakespeare
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Claudius is an Italian Mob Boss, F/M, Ophelia is done with everybody, Polonius is his lackey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-18 07:35:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5906737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falcine/pseuds/Falcine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>See when Daddy asks her if she can do something, Lia doesn’t hear it as a question. She just does it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All My Orisons

**Author's Note:**

> Ophelia needs all the love in the world.

The room is hazy with smoke, but that’s nothing new. Lia takes the tube of lipstick—almost dried out, but enough just for now—and slowly rubs it on her lips, staring at her stupid gaping mouth in the mirror, marred by a crack running down the glass. The finishing touches done, she looks absolutely gorgeous, big dark eyes ringed in black and smokier than the room she sits in with hair falling in waves down her back; if only her lips weren’t so bright red and twisted in a scowl. 

Her hair falls in her face, and when she reaches up to brush the chestnut locks away there is the glimmer of fabulous diamonds on her wrist, so completely out of place in this dump of a room. 

Lia sighs, double checks her makeup, makes a pout to herself in the mirror, and wonders if it looks real enough to fool  _ him _ .

(Before, when she was still in love and stupid, she would’ve thought never. Nothing was convincing enough to slip past his sharp eyes, not even things that were actually real. Now, Lia thinks about the circles under his eyes and how haggard he looked in that photo from a week ago, and she doesn’t know if it would be better if she succeeds.) 

The light spills over the room from the bare bulb set in the ceiling. It is dim, flickers sometimes, but it’s enough to illuminate the dust hanging in the air. Lia waves a hand idly in front of her, and watches the dust motes scatter, fly away in swirls. It’s hard not to worry, just a little, and she sits at the edge of her hard chair and tries to convince herself to leave. 

She runs her fingers over the edges of the bracelet, just to remind herself. 

One last moment, then, all to herself. She grabs the flask of moonshine off the rickety dressing table and takes a deep drink, the burn leaving stinging tears in her eyes but she feels more clear minded than ever. The lipstick leaves a stain on the mouth of the flask, and Lia smiles before wiping it away with her fingertip. 

With a toss of her tumbling curls, Lia stands, pulling on the hem of the short black dress she’s wearing. She slings on the only purse she could find last minute—too big and flowery, but it’ll do.

Lia’s heels click as she steps over the glass shards on the concrete ground. Her brother had one too many brawls down here, and no one’s cleaned it up since, but she’s not allowed to mention that much. 

The stairs creak. Lia puts a hand on the walls, feeling around for cobwebs. When she blinks, she feels the heavy weight of mascara on her eyelids and she wonders if she could just go to sleep and tell everyone to screw off. 

But Lia’s in too deep for that now, and she should’ve  known the moment she let him buy her that damn drink in that damn bar. 

Lia pushes the door open, steps out into their mess of an apartment. First floor, only so cheap cause the pipes leak and the windows never quite close properly in the winter. Lia snorts and rubs her hands down her arms, shivering from the ever present wind blowing through. Home sweet fucking home.

“You ready?” Daddy asks, rubbing his hands together nervously. 

See, Lia’s father is, essentially, a mess. A yes man to the core. He belongs, Lia thinks, in this godforsaken house. He has an ever present twitch, made more noticeable when he starts to talk and ends up rambling long past the point when others’ve stopped listening. His palms are always sweaty. Lia grew up watching him meet with shady men in slick suits and listening to him stammer out a stream of compliments, always fiddling with that damn dress shirt he never ironed.

Lia smiles. “Yeah, Daddy,” she says. Lia loves him anyways.

She learned how to iron as soon as she could reach the board. Mom was never around—they never did find out if she died or straight up left—but Lia could pull slack if she had to and there was nothing her brother could say to stop her. Besides, he had more fun when he was allowed to go out every night anyways. 

Lia never had luck when she went out. That’s where all this started, even.

But then again, who was she to know the hot stranger buying her a drink was actually her dad’s boss’s entitled asshole of a son? Or that years later she’d have to get some damn secret out of him with the lovely addendum of her ex-boyfriend also being ex-sane? 

Daddy pulls her into a hug. “Thanks sweetheart,” he says in her ear as if she had a choice. 

See when Daddy asks her if she can do something, Lia doesn’t hear it as a question. She just does it. 

“Are we leaving now?” Lia asks, half wanting to get the hell out of here, half reluctant to face him. She fiddles with her bracelet. 

Daddy nods absentmindedly, patting her shoulder.

They walk out through the halls together, and Lia pulls the heavy jacket she grabbed around herself before they step out into the winter. The cold in the city ain’t enough for snow, but this tiny dress Lia’s got on isn’t gonna do much to shelter her.

The sky is dark. Lia cranes her neck up and looks at the constellations. Sometimes, she wonders if anything’s written up there in the stars, and she thinks of how worried for real Daddy sounded when he told her,  _ he ain’t in your stars, honey, don’t go chasing what you can’t have.  _ Lia didn’t listen. She wonders if maybe she should’ve. 

Daddy’s chauffeur is waiting for them right outside the building, the dark car sitting just at the curb. Daddy’s not rich, otherwise the apartment wouldn’t be so crap, but he’s got friends in places. 

Scary places. 

Lia slides into the car and tucks her legs to the side. Daddy gets in next to her. She shivers, but it ain’t cause of the cold. 

Daddy’s friends scare her, but she knows them too damn well at this point to get the hell out of dodge. She really just wants to open up some corner shop, maybe even go off to college if she can get the money together for it, but a life time ago someone promised her diamonds and jewels and so much love and she fell for it like the stupid girl she is. Was. Whatever. 

Lia doesn’t want to be a stupid girl, but this is the only way she can help Daddy in this world, so she’ll do this last thing and  _ then  _ get the hell out. 

“You remember what to do?” Daddy asks. 

She remembers this look on Daddy’s face. Half nervous, half grave. Daddy reaches out and takes her hand, and Lia’s surprised to feel her own palms are as clammy as his. 

Lia swallows. “Let’s run it down again,” she manages to say, and when Daddy doesn’t smile reassuringly she wonders if maybe she’s said the wrong thing again.

He purses his lips and runs a thumb across her palm. “I already gave the boss those letters you showed me,” he says, leaning in, “but don’t make it too obvious we know about those.” 

She flinches, just a little, remembers the stash of stupid love letters she had to give up, some clearly from when he wrote her in a drunken stupor just a few weeks ago. She was planning to burn them, but Daddy took them all before she could and now she feels naked, stupidly exposed in all her youthful idiocy. “Yeah, alright,” she mutters. 

Daddy gives her a look, all eyebrows drawn down and serious. “Lia, listen to me,” he says. “The boss’s son is doing pretty badly and we just want to see how he’s doing. I think he was pretty broken up when you left him, sweetie, you know that, right?”

She wants to laugh, because since when was it her fault that she broke it off with him? “Yeah.” 

“Just talk to him a little. Ask him what’s wrong. Give him back the bracelet and see how he reacts, maybe he’ll tell you why he’s really upset then or something. If he just misses you and wants you back we’ll know that there’s nothing big going on, you know? Me and the boss’ll be listening right outside.” 

“Yeah.”

“All you gotta do is talk to him,” he says. “We don’t need you to do much else, darling, I know you can do it,” he says.

“Yeah,” Lia says. 

“Just talk to him. We’ll be right outside if anything goes wrong.” 

“Yeah.” 

“You got the bracelet?”

“Yeah.”

Daddy smiles, finally. “You got this, darling, I trust you.” He gives her hand a squeeze. 

Despite everything, Lia finds herself smiling back. “Okay,” she says, chewing on her painted lip. “What if he does something?” she asks, her voice so damn weak, but dammit she’s scared. 

Daddy’s eye widen. “Do what, Lia?” 

She fidgets slightly, pulls her hand away from Daddy’s grasp. “I dunno,” Lia mutters, tucking her hair back and feeling less confident than ever. “Something bad.” 

“We’ll be right outside, Lia. Remember, sweetie, I toldya,” Daddy says, shaking his head. He sounds almost amused, like he thinks she’s crazy for being scared because Daddy didn’t see him like Lia did that night at the party just before they broke up. Like he wasn’t suggesting she provoke her ex into some sort of reaction to figure out what the hell was wrong with him.

Lia never thought she’d be afraid of someone she used to love so damn much, but that’s nothing new. She jerks her head around to stare at Daddy, trying to tell him with her eyes how much she doesn’t want to do this. 

But it’s Daddy, and Daddy’s boss told him to do this, so it’s not like anyone has much choice in this matter. Lia thinks of how the boss must’ve just said,  _ fix my son,  _ and how Daddy must’ve just snapped his head up and down and maybe even saluted. Or maybe Daddy just wanted to curry some favour and went all,  _ hi, sir, I see your son is upset. Did you know he used to date my daughter? What can I do to help? _

“Yeah,” Lia says again, and turns to look out the window. The sky is dark. She bites down hard on her lip and wonders if it’d blend in with the red if she started bleeding. 

“We’re here,” Daddy says, and Lia doesn’t move for a full minute.

“Yeah,” she finally says. 

Daddy’s already out of the car, and Lia stands next to him and watches the dark car pull away. On the corner stands The Boss, scary enough in that dark suit and dark glasses to warrant the entire freaking title, and Daddy immediately slouches a bit more. Lia’s taller than him, now, in her heels, and she doesn’t like to think of how uncomfortable this all is.

The night air is chilly. The boss comes over, grasps Daddy’s hand and Lia wonders if Daddy shakes hands as pathetically as he hugs, all weak and limp. “Is she ready?” the boss says, like Lia ain’t even standing right there. 

Daddy nods, doesn’t turn back to acknowledge her.

Lia loosens her hair with one hand, tries to feel sexier or something as if that would help. The boss gives her a look over and silently points at the door.

“We’ll be right there,” Daddy whispers to her as he leans in, then pushes her a little over to the apartment door. There’s an honest to god flower display at the door, just hanging on the rough looking brick walls. 

She scowls slightly and doesn’t look back at the two when she walks up to the door, her hands resting on the metal railings at the short steps. She rings the doorbell, her hands tapping on her sides, trying to kill the nervous buzz she feels in her bones.

There is some sort of scuffling on the inside, and a lot of shouting, and Lia tries not to cringe. 

Then, the door opens, and there he is. The biggest love of her fucking life, looking homeless with dark circles under his eyes and his shirt half off. His hair is messed up like he hasn’t showered in a week, but Lia hates how she still thinks it’s kind of cute and she hates how she hates how he looks so bad like this. 

For half a moment, they stare at each other. Lia wonders if maybe he’s been thinking of her, or something, because he doesn’t nearly look half as surprised as she thought he would, even if it’s been almost two years since they saw each other. 

“Lia,” he says, actually sounding kind of pleased to see her, and Lia has to fight the urge to smile. 

Then, she remembers the plan. 

And damn it all if she’s going to let him walk all over her all over again.

Lia breathes in deeply, yanks the bracelet off her wrist. “I’ve got something to give back to you, asshole,” she says, her voice stronger than she feels, and pushes her way into the door. 


End file.
